


life's too short to be dancing with the devil

by madjes



Series: line without a hook [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- Angels and Demons, Alternate Universe- Supernatural, Angst, Curses, Human Ryan Bergara, Hurt and comfort, Loosely Based off Needful Things by Stephen King, M/M, Protective Ryan Bergara, Protective Shane Madej, Strangers to Lovers, minor depictions of violence, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madjes/pseuds/madjes
Summary: Jake pushed past Ryan and skipped into the store while the bell jingled as he knocked the door open, Brent giving Ryan a little smile as he followed him in. Ryan hesitated just outside the door, but he couldn’t deny the urge that settled deep in his stomach to follow them inside. Something in this shop called for him, he couldn’t deny that much. Jake and Brent were glancing around the shelves of books when Ryan stepped inside, and though Shane hadn’t seemed to be paying him any attention, he jerked up to attention and looked towards the entrance as Ryan came across the threshold.“Ryan Bergara,” Shane said, voice holding a certain teasing tone to it. He grinned almost wolfishly at Ryan, whose arms broke out into little goosebumps when they made eye contact.[or: Ryan Bergara is a post-grad hoping to make ends meet and get his career started. Shane Madej is a shop keeper, offering a position up on a sliver platter- certainly no strings attached.]
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: line without a hook [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034652
Kudos: 17





	life's too short to be dancing with the devil

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story is loosely based off the plot of Needful Things by Stephen King, but it will not be following the plot closely by any means and will diverge at multiple times. Any potential triggers will be mentioned at the top of the specific chapter as well as in the archive tags. There won't be any major depictions of violence at any point. Please do not post to any other social media sites.

Ryan Bergara hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to move back to his hometown at almost 25 years old, but it hadn’t been much of a choice. It was embarrassing to walk down these streets, making eye contact with the people he’d grown up with, played sports with, studied with, who knew that he was that loser who moved out to LA to make movies only to come back a few years later with his tail between his legs. Everybody had told him he was making some huge mistake, that it was impossible to make it, that he didn’t stand a chance, but Ryan had been willfully deaf to their criticisms and now he found himself back in his childhood bedroom, single and unemployed, the cause of whispers on the streets as neighbours he once called friends judged his every move. It stung, certainly. Not being able to make it on your own, falling thousands of dollars in debt to an education that was doing nothing for him. His mother was hopeful for him, swearing that he would find something that was worthy of his talents- Ryan was understandably skeptical of this, when his so-called talents couldn’t even seem to get him a callback for an interview at McDonalds. 

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for here, why he’d thought for even a second that it might have been easier to find some sort of job in his hometown. He was scraping through the same minimum wage barrel here that he was out in LA, and truthfully the obnoxious people he’d served day in and day out at Starbucks were more bearable than the way his high school ex girlfriend gave him pitiful looks when he walked down to the end of the driveway to get the mail and she was walking past pushing her daughter in a stroller. Nothing in this town ever changed, the faces, the people… Ryan coming back home was probably the most interesting thing that happened since Ryan had left in the first place. It would be an honour to be the talk of the town twice, if it wasn’t such a slap in the face to constantly be reminded that he’d tried to break away and failed like everybody had been so sure he was going to. 

Ryan almost aggressively tossed his empty coffee cup into the garbage on the street and turned away from it, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tried to disguise his anger. The last thing he needed was more whispers about himself from Janet who owned the bakery on Main Street or Jessi who babysat him and his brother growing up. Ryan was so busy feeling sorry for himself that he almost missed it.

But there it was, a tall dark building wedged into the space between Janet’s Bakery and the record shop. Ryan was sure that there had never been any store there before, nor any space for one, but he still trusted his own eyes.  _ MULTUM  _ stood there now, and the building looked old, almost like the shutters on the sides of the windows could fall off any moment. People walked past it without giving it a second glance, but Ryan felt grounded to the spot as he stared at it, unable to look away. His feet started moving towards the shop almost on their own accord, the bell above the shop door jingling as Ryan pushed it open. Everything in the shop looked old, a certain level of dust settled on a good deal of the displays. The store was empty of people aside from a tall man that stood behind a cashier register, reading a book who didn’t so much as glance up when Ryan entered. 

It must be some sort of thrift shop, just guessing from the sheer randomness that was the objects within the displays. There was a shelf full of just butterflies encased in glass that made chills run down Ryan’s spine, with rows and rows of bookshelves full of books in different sizes and colours in different levels of wear. Ryan’s eyes fell onto a single end table that stood almost in the middle of an aisle, and his heart nearly froze in his chest when he spotted the shoes sitting on top of them. To the untrained eye, the sneaker would look like  [ nothing more than a ratty baseball shoe, overworn and not well cared for in the slightest ](https://process.fs.grailed.com/AJdAgnqCST4iPtnUxiGtTz/cache=expiry:max/rotate=deg:exif/resize=width:2400,fit:crop/output=quality:70/compress/https://process.fs.grailed.com/MtlVOCbKSr26kHKqbMdo) , but Ryan’s had to take a moment to comprehend what he was seeing. 

“That is not what you’ve come here for.” 

The voice from over Ryan’s shoulder made him jump higher into the air than Ryan was even sure was possible, and he stumbled as he tried to move away from the person who had somehow crept up behind him without making any sort of sound. He crashed into the end table, a corner stabbing into his hip. Ryan winced, rubbing at the sharp intrusion. Standing before him, looking mildly amused, was the man from the front counter. He was taller than Ryan had pegged him when he’d come in, sandy hair falling into his eyes and a hint of a smirk that looked like it never fully left his face. Nobody Ryan had ever seen before.

“How much are you selling these for?” Ryan asked frantically, There were no prices on anything he could see, and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest. He knew that in any logical situation, he did not have enough money for these shoes and likely never would, but his palms sweat at the thought of being so  _ close  _ to the Moon Shoes and being forced to leave them behind. 

The man let out a low laugh. “We don’t concern ourselves with the costs of items here. There are much more important things.” 

Ryan’s mouth dropped open. “Do you have any idea how valuable these shoes are, man? They sold at an auction for $437,500! I can’t believe somebody would donate these… what an idiot.”

The man’s smirk grew. “I understand the value of everything in this store, don’t you worry. Everybody who comes into Multum leaves with exactly what they’ve come looking for, whether they knew they were looking for it when they came in or not.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to see these sitting in the middle of the aisle this run down looking death trap but I’m game.”

The man shook his head, a small rumble of a laugh being born in his chest. “It is not the shoes you’ve come here for, though it doesn’t surprise me that they called to you. People have a talent of finding the things they do not need.”

Ryan scowled. “Sure, a pair of Nikes aren’t in my hierarchy of needs, but… are you seriously arguing yourself out of a huge fucking sale? What kind of customer service is that?” 

The man fully laughed. “I’ve already told you- we aren’t concerned with costs or money here. Everybody comes here for something, and I think I can help you with your problems. It’s a job you really need, isn’t it?”

Ryan’s hands shook at his sides, and he narrowed his eyes. “Oh, what? You’re so good at paying attention to the gossip around town but you can’t be bothered to realize when you’ve got the rarest pair of sneakers in the world sitting in your shop for anybody to steal? You know they only made 12 pairs of these  _ ever,  _ right? I could grab them right now and run for it, you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

“You could,” the man agreed, leaning against one of the bookshelves. “But you won’t, no matter how much you desire them. You are not a thief, you don’t have it in you.”

“You don’t know me.” Ryan snapped, an anger that had been brewing in his stomach for months threatening to overflow on this stranger. “I just want these sneakers, and you’re not going to even  _ tell  _ me how much they cost, then I’m just wasting my time here.”

“You said yourself you came in here not even knowing the sneakers were here. Wouldn’t that imply you always intended to just  _ waste your time  _ here?”

Ryan clenched his jaw, giving him a moment to grind his teeth together before bothering to answer. “Who  _ are  _ you?”

“My name’s Shane.” Shane said, not offering his hand forward to shake which Ryan was thankful for. “My father has a couple of these stores across the country, this is his newest one. He’s entrusted me to run it. Been here a few months now.”

Now that sounded like a lie right off the bat. Ryan had been home for almost two months, and he had never seen Mutlum until this afternoon. He was certain that the store couldn’t have existed before, with no prior memory of it at all, despite going downtown nearly everyday just as an excuse to get out of the house. It seemed almost like Shane was expecting Ryan to raise an argument, if the twitch of his lips meant anything, but Ryan didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction. “I’m sure your father won’t be happy with you when his shop tanks because you refuse to sell any merchandise.” 

Shane barked out a surprised laugh, brown eyes shining. “You might be right, but I think you overestimate how much attention my father is going to be paying to what I do here. But you can’t afford those shoes, and I think you know that.”

Ryan deflated like a child’s balloon with a hole. Of course Shane was right, even if Ryan  _ did  _ have a steady job, he wouldn’t be able to afford the Moon Shoes. No normal human being could afford them, not even at thrift store prices. How they’d ended up here was certainly a mystery that Shane didn’t seem keen on letting slip. 

“I should probably go…” Ryan said quietly, hand hovering just above the shoes. His fingers shook and he could feel Shane watching him. Bitter disappointment curled around Ryan’s heart and for a moment, he really did think of grabbing the shoes and taking off. Just for a moment. Then he dropped his hand and gave Shane a short nod, moving back towards the front door of the shop. He didn’t bother to look around for anything else, knowing there could be nothing in the shop that would interest him more than the Moon Shoes. 

“Interesting…” Shane said slowly with a grin. “Think about my offer, Ryan Bergara. I expect to see you soon.”

It took almost three days for Ryan to realize that he had never told Shane his name. He’d gone into town with his brother, Jake, to get lunch with his high school best friend, Brent, when the shop came back into mind. It had stayed there since the day he’d wandered in, but he hadn’t mentioned it to anybody. There was no reason for him to have kept it to himself, he really couldn’t explain it. But walking down that same street brought it rushing to the very front of Ryan’s mind and he had the sudden, overwhelming urge to catch Shane in what he knew was a lie.

“Have you ever been in the shop, Mutlum? It’s between Janet’s Bakery and AlleyCats?” Ryan asked, hoping that he sounded casual. If the way his brother frowned, he failed. But Jake was either too nice or simply just too lazy to call him out on anything. 

“ _ Between  _ Janet’s and Alleycats?” Brent asked with a roll of his eyes. “Ryan, I know you were gone for a few years, but things haven’t changed that much. There’s nothing between Janets and AlleyCats. Never has been.”

Ryan bit back a smirk, vindication rushing through his veins. “Oh see, that’s what I thought, too. Until I went there the other day. Spent a good ten minutes looking at a pair of Moon Shoes.”

Jake dropped his can of coke, the drink exploding across the sidewalk as his stared gap-mouthed at his older brother. “Is this a bit? Are you joking?” 

“Why would I-” Ryan shook his head. “Why would I joke about Moon Shoes? I can take you there right now if you don’t believe me. The guy who works there was weird, though. Wouldn’t sell the shoes to me, kept saying that wasn’t what I was looking for. Offered me a job.”

“You got offered a job and you didn’t take it?” Brent raised his eyebrow and Ryan flushed slightly. “Isn’t that the only thing you’ve been doing since you moved back? Begging people to hire you?”

“I haven’t  _ begged!”  _ Ryan cried. “And I don’t know, man. It was weird. He called me by my name when I was leaving but I never told it to him.”

Brent shrugged. “It’s a small town, everybody knows everybody. It’s not that surprising he’d know who you are. People talk.” 

“Well, excuse me for being concerned that I could potentially have some sort of  _ stalker. _ ” Ryan said, shoulders stiffening as he readied himself for an argument. Throughout their whole friendship, Ryan and Brent could hardly go a week without some sort of meaningless fight. Brent’s practicality meant Ryan’s dreaminess and tendency to jump to conclusions like oil meeting a hot stove burner. It worked for them, but nobody on the outside could ever see how or why. 

“Are we going to see these Moon Shoes or not.” Jake demanded, not a question in the slightest. His arms were pressed on his hips, foot quite literally tapping on the sidewalk. 

Ryan shook his head, balling up the wrapper from his sandwich and tossing it into the metal garbage can free throw style. “Oh yeah, Jake. Let’s just go back and hang out with my potential stalker so you can maybe see some shoes that you wouldn’t be able to afford even if they are still there.”

“Nobody is stalking you.” Jake rolled his eyes. “Somebody offered you a job and you had to go make a conspiracy theory about it. That’s all this is. Let’s go to this store, you can get a job and I can see Moon Shoes in person. Unless you’re just talking shit and this place doesn’t exist at all.” 

Ryan narrowed his eyes at his younger brother while Brent let out a snort of amusement. Ryan certainly had a history of taking most theories at face value, even things that would seem completely outlandish to any other person, but he never just made his shit up for the hell of it. And Jake knew it. This was bait in its purest form and Ryan knew he was going to get caught on it, as soon as the words came from Jake’s mouth.

“Fuck you.” Ryan turned on his heel and began to stomp down the street, knowing he was making a scene and simply not having it in himself to give a fuck about it. He barely heard Jake and Brent’s teasing from behind him as he guided them towards Mutlum.

“Still think I’m full of shit?” Ryan asked as they walked up the front steps of the rickety old shop. It looked exactly as it did a few days earlier- as though it would collapse any moment and has been standing for centuries. Jake and Brent both gave Ryan bemused smiles. 

Jake shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve never noticed it before, but it looks old as shit. I’m not a huge thrift shopper. Let’s go see these shoes.”

Jake pushed past Ryan and skipped into the store while the bell jingled as he knocked the door open, Brent giving Ryan a little smile as he followed him in. Ryan hesitated just outside the door, but he couldn’t deny the urge that settled deep in his stomach to follow them inside. Something in this shop called for him, he couldn’t deny that much. Jake and Brent were glancing around the shelves of books when Ryan stepped inside, and though Shane hadn’t seemed to be paying him any attention, he jerked up to attention and looked towards the entrance as Ryan came across the threshold. 

“Ryan Bergara,” Shane said, voice holding a certain teasing tone to it. He grinned almost wolfishly at Ryan, whose arms broke out into little goosebumps when they made eye contact. “I’m afraid that you’ve come here looking for your little sneakers, they’ve gone. The shelves are always changing around here, nothing lasts long.”

Ryan heard his brother groan from a few aisles over, but there wasn’t even a twinge of disappointment in Ryan’s stomach at Shane’s words. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Shoes like that wouldn’t last long. I told you how rare they were.”

Shane just stared at him and Ryan had a feeling that there was a little bit more to it than expensive shoes selling out. He didn’t look around too much the first time he’d come inside, but most of the things lining the walls and shelves looked different. Just as old, just as dusty, but not the same things as days before. 

“Actually, I-” Ryan’s throat croaked and he cleared it awkwardly. He rubbed at the back of his neck as Shane watched him with unwavering attention. “I think I might have been a little hasty last time we talked. You’re right, I do need a job.”

Shane broke into a wide smile. “That’s great, Ryan! I knew you’d be back. I think you’ll be a perfect fit here.”

Ryan blinked, glancing around the shop to see if he could catch the eye of his brother or friend but they had disappeared deep into the shelves. “What? You don’t want to do any interview? I can give you references or-”

Shane waved him off, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. Everybody knows everybody ‘round here, don’t they? I know plenty about you, Ryan Bergara.”

_ Not creepy at all,  _ Ryan bit his bottom lip. A little part of him screamed at him to turn heel and run from this store. Never look back and never think about Shane the Shopkeep ever again. Despite the pleading voice, Ryan held his ground. 

“You might be a little too trusting here, man.” Ryan forced a laugh. “What? You’re just going to hire somebody right off the street, no background check. I could steal from you. You don’t actually know me, even if you’ve heard people talk about me.”

Shane smirked. “I have no worries about thieves here. And if you were going to steal from me, you would have run off with those shoes the other day. Now what do you say, Ryan? Can you start Monday?”

Ryan would tell you he hesitated, but there wasn’t so much of a moment’s pause before he told Shane he’d be ready Monday morning. 


End file.
